obvious than you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Elizabeth opened the folder and flipped over several pages. “Let’s see,
now. There was a colored trumpet player in Paris. . . .”
“A whatl What are you talking about?”
“He brought you back to your hotel, excuse me, yours and Ulster’s hotel, at
eight o’clock in the morning. Obviously, you’d been with him all nighL”
Janet stared at her mother-in-law in disbelief. Although dazed, she
answered her rapidly, quietly. “Yes. Paris, yest And I was with him, but
not like that. I was trying to keep up with Ulster. Half the night trying
to find him.11
4’rhat fact doesn’t appear here. You were seen coming into the hotel with
a colored man supporting you.”
“I was exhausted.”
“Drunk is the word used here. .
“Then ifs a liel”
The old woman turned the page. “And then one week in the south of France?
Do you remember that weekend, Janet?”
“No,” the girl answered hesitantly. ‘Tvlat are you doing? What have you got
there?”
Elizabeth rose, holding the folder away from the girl’s eyes. “Oh, come
now. That weekend at Madame Anriole’s. What do they call her chateau-the
Silhouette? Quite a dramatic name.”
“She was a friend of Ulsterl”
“And, of course, you had no idea what Auriole’s Silhouette meant, and still
means, I believe, throughout the south of France.”
“You’re not suggesting that I had anything to do with any of that?”
“Just what did people mean when they said they went to Auriole’s
Silhouette?”
“You can’t mean it.”
“What happens at Auriole’s Silhouette?” Elizabeth’s voice rose viciously.
“I don’t … don’t know~ I don’t knowl”
“What happens?”
“I woet answer youl”
“That’s very prudent, but I’m afraid it won’t dot les
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common knowledge that the outstanding items on Madame Auriole’s menus are
opium, hashish, marijuana, heroin a haven for the users of every form of
narcoticsill
“I did not know thatt”
“You didn’t know anything about it? For an entire weekend? For three days
during the height of her season?”
“Nol … Yes, I found out and I left. I left as soon as I realized what
they were doingl”
“Orgies for narcotics addicts. Marvelous opportunities for the
sophisticated voyeur. Day and night. And Mrs. Scarlett knew nothing about
it at allt”
“I swear I didn’t1”
Elizabeth’s voice changed to one of gentle firnmess. “I’m sure you didn’t,
my dear, but I don’t know who would believe you.” She paused briefly.
“Fhere’s a great deal more here.” She flipped the pages, sitting down once
more behind the desk. “Berlin, Vienna, Rome. Particularly Cairo.”
Janet ran toward Elizabeth Scarlatti and leaned across the desk, her eyes
wide with frighL “Ulster left me for almost two weeksl I didn’t know where
he was. I was petrifiedl”
“You were seen going into the strangest places, my dear. You even committed
one of the gravest intemational crimes. You bought another human being. You
purchased a slave.”
“Nol No, I didn’tl That’s not truel”
“Oh, yes, it is. You bought a thirteen-year-old Arab girl who was being
sold into prostitution. As an American citizen there are specific laws . .
.”
“It’s a liel” broke in Janet. “They told me that if I paid the money, the
Arab could tell me where Ulster wasl That’s all I did!”
“No, it wasn’t. You gave him a present. A little thirteen-year-old girl was
your present to him and you know it. I wonder if you’ve ever thought about
her.”
“I just wanted to find Ulsterl I was sick when I found out. I didn’t
understandl I didn1 even know what they were talking aboutl All I wanted to
do was find Ulster and get out of that awful placel”
“I wouldn’t pretend to dispute you. Nevertheless, others would.”
137
‘Vho?” The girl was shaking.
‘The courts, for one. Newspapers, for another.” Elizabeth stared at the
frightened girl. “My friends. . Even your own friends.”
“And you would allow . . . someone to use those lies against me?”
Elizabeth shrugged.
“And against your own grandchild7″
‘I doubt that he would be your child, legally, that is, for very long. rm
sure he’d be declared a ward of the court until it was determined that
Chancellor was the proper guardian for him.”
Janet slowly sat down on the edge of the chair. Lips parted, she began to
cry.
‘Tlease, Janet Im not asking you to enroll in a nunnery. rm not even asking
you to do without the normal satisfactions of a woman of your age and
appetites. you’ve hardly restricted yourself during the past several
months, and I don’t expect you to now. I’m only asking a fair amount of
discretion, perhaps a bit more than you’ve been exercising, and a healthy
degree of physical eaution. In the absence of the latter, immediate
remedy.”
Janet Saxon Scarlett turned her head away, her eyes tightly shut. “You’re
horrible;” she whispered.
“I imagine I appear that way to you now. Someday I hope you may
reconsider.”
Janet sprang from the chair.
“Let me out of this housel”
‘Tor heqveWs sake try to understand. Chancellor and Allison will oe here
soon. I need you, my dear.”
Tbe girl raced to the door, -forgetting the lock. She could not open it.
Her voice was low in her panic. “What more could you possibly want?”
And Elizabeth knew she had won.
138
CHAPTER 16
Matthew Canfield leaned against the building on the southeast corner of
Fifth Avenue at Sixty-third Street, about forty yards from the imposing
entrance to the Scarlatti residence. He pulled his raincoat tightly around
bim to ward off the chill brought by the autumn rain and glancad at his
watch: ten minutes to six. He had been at his post for over an hour. The
girl had gone in at a quarter to five; and-ior all he knew, she would be
the-Te until midnight or, God forbid, until morning. He had arranged for a
relief at two o’clock if nothing had happened by then, There was no
particular reason for him to feel that something would happen by then, but
his instincts told him otherwise. After five weeks of familiarizing himself
with his subjects, he let his imagination fill in what observation
precluded. The old lady was boarding ship the day after tomorrow, and not
taking anyone with her.. Her- lament for her missing or dead son was inter-
national knowledge. Her grief was the subject of countless newspaper stones.
However, the old woman hid her grief well and went about her business.
Scarlett’s wife was different. U she mourned her missing husband, it was
not apparent. But what was obvious was her disbelief in Ulster Scarlett’s
death. What was it she had said in the bar at the. Oyster Bay Country Club?
Although her voice was thick from whiskey, her pronouncement was clear.
“My dear mother-in-law thi shes so smart. I hope the boat sinksl She’ll
find him.”
Tonight there was a confrontation between the two
139
women, and Matthew Canfield wished he could be a witness.
The drizzle was letting up. Canfield decided to walk across Fifth Avenue to
the park side of the street. He took a newspaper out of his raincoat
pocket, spread it on the slatted bench in front of the Central Park wall,
and sat down. A man and a woman stopped before the old lady’s steps. It was
fairly dark now, and he couldn1 see who they were. The woman was animatedly
expl i i g something, while the man seemed not to listen, more intent on
pulling out his pocket watch and checking the time. Canfield looked again
at his own watch and noted that it was two minutes to six. He slowly got up
and began to saunter back across the avenue. The man turned toward the curb
to get the spill of the streetlight on his watch. The woman kept talking.
Canfield saw with no surprise that it was the older brother Chancellor Drew
Scarlett and his wife Allison.
Canfield kept walking east on Sixty-third as Chancellor Scariett took his
wife’s elbow and marched her up the steps to the Scarlatti door. As he
reached Madison Avenue, Canfield heard a sharp crash. He tamed and saw that
the front door of Elizabeth Scarlattis house had been pulled open with such
force that the collision against an unseen wall echoed throughout the
street.
Janet Scarlett came running down the brick stairs, tripped, got up, and
hobbled toward Fifth Avenue. Canfield – started back toward her. She was
hurt and the timing might just. be perfect.
The field accountant was within thirty yards of Ulster Scarlett’s wife.
when a roadster, a shiny black Pierce-Arrow, came racing down the block.
The car veered close to the curb near the girl.
Canfield slowed down and watched. He could see the man in the roadster
leaning forward toward the far window. The light from the overhead
streetlamp shone directly on his face, He was a handsome man in his early